


A Moment Apart

by Why_So_Serious97



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baelfire is the same age as Emma, Car Accidents, Confused Henry Mills, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Parent Emma Swan, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Stessed out Baelfire, Stressed out Emma Swan, Tags Are Hard, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_So_Serious97/pseuds/Why_So_Serious97
Summary: Neal Cassidy gets spooked when he notices someone tagging him that fateful night. August chooses not to follow on foot, which alters everything.Emma thought she was done with the curses, but it seemed to have "followed" her when she repaid the favor she owed to Mr. Gold. Now she needs to deal with an amnesic Ex, a homicidal imp, all the while she figures out how to explain to Henry she's been lying to him about his father. Centuries-old conspiracies are revealed as true love is put to the test.
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy & Henry Mills, Baelfire | Neal Cassidy & Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Henry Mills & Emma Swan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. I've Got No Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Once Upon A Time and its characters do not belong to me, but to the creators of the show. I was inspired by multiple fanfics and decided to write my own. I'll give credit to where it's due, but I can't find the stories anymore. If I find them again I'll put them in the notes. This story is LOOSELY based on some ideas I've seen, but it will definitely drastically become its own thing in the first chapter. This is my first fanfic ever written on a public site. Please be nice and respectful. I do accept constructive criticism. Also, the title is the same title as a song from ODESZA. And, yes, the title of this chapter is from the Pinocchio film.

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was a simple job; confront Baelfire, convince him to leave Emma alone with some made-up hogwash, or threaten him if he’s as bullheaded as his father, then disappear into the night like the absentee guardian angel he is. This job was supposed to his rectification for his willful abandonment of the savior. It was SUPPOSED to be a breeze; kid stuff compared to the cons he gets up to on the regular basis.

Nothing ever goes easy for him. It was folly on his part to believe this would too.

Swallowing the growing lump that rose in his throat, August opens the car door; the tremors in his uncooperative hands making the basic task substantially more challenging. He staggers out of the vehicle and nearly vomits at the sight before him. Lying prone in the forlorn exit of some back alley, was Baelfire. Dressed in a filthy tank and holey jeans, limbs contorted in directions they weren’t meant to bend; the homeless man appeared to be dead. All the blood pooling from Baelfire’s scalp validated that increasing probability. August feels the world tilt on its axis and he had to grip the roof of his car to stay standing. Oh, God, did he kill the son of the Dark One!? Is he really dead? He didn’t mean to! Did that even matter? Oh God, what has he-

He doesn’t realize he fell to his knees until he sees his own hands feeling for a pulse. It was there; faint, but there. His mind quickly gets to work. Glancing around, he knows that no one witnessed this. August knew this place had no cameras and the nearby buildings were decrepit. It was the main reason why he was leading the other man down this way. Without allowing himself to ruminate on his actions, August reaches into Baelfire’s pockets, removing the fake ID, and then the stolen watches. He’ll make a quick call to the hospital and, if he had a shred of luck, he may be able to spin this to meet Blue’s orders.

“Neal Cassidy’s” eyes were still partially open; bruised lips muttering incomprehensible words. 

“Why did you run?” The accusatory question that escapes August has been gnawing away at him ever since Baelfire caught sight of him and bolted. If he just...didn’t run...it would’ve made this night go a heck of a lot smoother! Everything would’ve been fine if he had just heard him out. Even in this flesh and blood body, August could feel his nose itch at the lie. Soul-crushing guilt wracks his frame as he forcibly turns away from the gruesome scene. Time was running out; staying here any longer won’t clean up the mess he caused. Torturing himself with one final glance at the twisted form of his unintended victim, the puppet-turned-man, pivots back to his car, tripping on stiff legs to call the nearest hospital. 

As the headlights fade into the distance, Baelfire’s eyes roll in the back in the back of his head.


	2. Broken Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Once Upon A Time or the characters of the show. Before you read the chapter, there are a few things I want to say. I'm grateful to everyone who left kudos and/ or comments. I started this story to have fun, to write my own ideas, and to give people something to enjoy, so I'm glad to see that I'm doing something right. Another thing; Baelfire/Neal Cassidy in this story is younger than he is in canon. When I picture a young adult Neal, I tend to picture Brenton Thwaites. I have nothing against Michael Raymond-James. He's a great actor, in my opinion. I just can't imagine him in this younger role. Anyway, if you disagree, that's okay. Just wanted to forewarn people before I started describing him. Enjoy the second chapter!

A few hours ago.

Neal’s back becomes ramrod straight as Emma locks eyes with him as she cuts across the street towards him. The sight of her wide beaming smile uncoils some of the tension locked in his shoulders. He grasps her arms to keep her upright when she barrels into his chest. 

“You got em’!?” It wasn’t like Neal doubted Emma’s expertise in theft, she has been in the game for almost all her 17 years of life, but he would inevitably worry over her when she pulls off a stint all on her own. Especially during a time such as this. 

“Walked right past them without a glance,” Emma states, as she proudly reveals the familiar azure travel bag half-hidden in her faux fur-lined coat. Neal frantically throws a quick glance at the train station behind them and ushers her in the yellow bug. 

“Hey-” Emma starts to protest, but one look at Neal’s face killed that train of thought. Once inside the safety of their tiny steel shelter for a home, her hand goes to his; prying his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel. His leery scrutiny was still intently on the dark silhouettes cast by the strangers walking blissfully past the stolen vehicle. Emma sucks in a breath, steeling herself for another argument. Leaving him to his thoughts when he was already this keyed up about the plans wasn’t such a good idea. 

“Neal, this is going to work. I know it will.” Her soothing, confident words weren’t working their usual charm over him tonight. He was shaking his head before she even finished the sentence. His other hand taps the wheel in an antsy, unsteady rhythm. 

“Yeah, no I get that, babe. It’s good...a great plan. I just think, why risk it, ya know? There’s still time for me to go to Canada.” Neal’s quiet voice was desperate. Emma obstinately pretends to not hear the silent plea in his counter-statement; stiffening in her seat as the insolent, self-willed beast of anxiety razes havoc on her guts. Swallowing the street vendor’s hotdog that was threatening to make another appearance, she clears her throat. He winces when she responds; hardened tone slicing through whatever perturbing fog brewing in his mind right now. 

Emma’s hand squeezes his. “We talked about this. We can do anything; go anywhere we want to go after this. We can finally go straight and not have to worry about glancing over our shoulders every two seconds, or where we’re going to sleep...or if we had enough to eat that night to go without food the next day! Neal…” She loved and hated that he can make her feel like this, so vulnerable; so full of unwavering trust and tenderness, but helpless as well because he was hurting and, not wanting to bother her, tend to push her away. He’ll pull away from her or insist it’s nothing when she catches him thrashing after a night terror or following one of his chronic migraines. He couldn’t stand upsetting her and she hated seeing her usually carefree boyfriend fall into such disquiet. She leans closer, turning his head gently to face her. The unshed tears in her bright blue irises made him fix his gaze on her swan pendant instead. He cradles it between two fingers, tracing the graceful bird with his fingernail. Outside, the light of a streetlamp begins to flicker.

“I thought you wanted this…” The ‘with me’ goes unsaid.

“I do!” His voice came out much louder and more defensive than Emma expected. Emma wasn’t convinced that was all. “But!?”

“Why does there have to be a but? I do want all those things, Em. I wasn’t just blowing hot air in that motel when I said I wanted to settle down.” Neal lets the necklace fall back to her sternum, glancing sheepishly up at her after his outburst. 

The rise of one perky, skeptical blond brow conveyed he wasn’t fooling her. Neal sighs, giving in. “I just...I got a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling.”

Emma knew what he meant. Whereas she had her special lie-detecting superpower, he had some built-in radar for misfortune. However, it was so random that it was hardly even reliable. They both liked to joke sometimes that it was the shoddy version of Spiderman’s spidey-sense.

Emma sits back in the worn car cushions, wiping at the corner of her eye, smudging the makeup there slightly. “So you want to go back on this because of your Jedi feelings? Babe, it’s a little late to be thinking about backing out now.” Now she was getting defensive. “And your bad feelings are a bit vague to go off of. Remember when you had a “bad feeling” after we robbed that gas station a couple of weeks ago? You swore up and down that cashier was on to us, but we got off scot-free.” 

“There was a mugging right across from that place hours after we left.” Neal deadpans. Emma gives a half-hearted shrug, not to carelessly brush off a traumatic event to some poor sap, but to the belief that Neal could’ve supernaturally foretold it. 

Regardless of that, they couldn’t let this opportunity go because of some bad heebie-jeebies. “It was downtown. That place is running with crooks, but if we don’t do this now, then we might not get another chance at starting that home as we talked about.”

Neal lifts their intertwined hands and places a chaste kiss on the flower tattoo on her inner wrist. She smiles, despite the tense air in the small space.

“Em...I don’t want to lose you.” He peers deeply into her eyes; his own brown pupils shining with an emotion that made her heart skip a beat. She still can’t believe how hard she fell for this boy.

“And you won’t. We promised to always look after each other, remember?” Neal lets out an inaudible defeated sigh. If there’s one thing he was, it was a man of his word. He made her that promise when they were sleeping in the car during winter and she got sick. He offers her that crooked smirk; the one that never fails to make her feel like she swallowed a jar full of fireflies.

“You know just what to say when I’m being stupid, huh?” Neal says, his smile growing as she lightly punches his arm teasingly.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m fluent in idiocy after meeting you.” 

Her feeble attempts to assuage him with playful banter seemed to help. He kisses her nose in retaliation for her comment and she scrunches up her face. “I wouldn’t sound too smug about that, babe. Alright, let’s see what we got here.” 

Opening the bag, he counts all 17 watches.

“I thought there would be more,” Emma states, sounding somewhat disappointed.

There was an underlining twinkle of excitement in Neal’s tone, after seeing the pricey watches again after all this time. No matter how much they’re ready to retire, the thrill of a good steal will probably always be ingrained in them. “Welp, I wouldn’t sneeze at it just yet. All this comes down to 20 grand.” He pauses for the news to sink in.

Emma doesn’t disappoint. “20,000 dollars!?” 20 large might as well be a billion dollars to a couple of homeless kids like them. Hugging his arm in barely restrained enthusiasm, she whispers in giddy awe, as if he just handed her dreams to her on a silver platter and not in a stolen dollar store bag. She whispers, quietly, mostly to not jinx them, but unable to hold back the exuberant fervor about to burst from her at that moment. “Tallahassee!” 

Neal’s grin threatens to split his face wide open. “Tallahassee, babe.” He responds back just as softly. She could see it now; their new life. A two-story home, a view of the ocean, strolls down the boardwalk, hand in hand with Neal. This was everything she could have ever wanted. Neal snaps her out of her daydream. 

“Okay, so I need to go see the fence. You remember the plan, right?” He was clearly back in business, straightening himself up the best he can in his threadbare hoodie and tank. 

“‘Parking structure by the tracks. Be there at 9 sharp.’ I got it, I got it.’” Emma rolls her eyes as she says this good-naturedly. “You drilled that over and over again in my head. I’m not going to forget it anytime soon.”

“Just checking, babe. If we’re doing this, we have to do it right.” He takes a slimmer watch out of the case, then reverently fastened it around Emma’s wrist, rubbing the back of her palm with the pad of his thumb.

Emma bites her lip, grateful that the dim lighting hid her blush. 

He must’ve seen anyway, given that smug smirk she loved so much. She wonders if this is what those female protagonists in cheesy romance novels feel when Neal, like the thief he is, steals her breath away with his next words. “Our last souvenir. To remind us when we decided to give ourselves our best chance.”

After a quick goodbye kiss, Emma watches Neal walk off into the night, disappearing around a corner.

\---

10:14 p.m at Parking Structure

Where was he!? Neal said to be here 9 on the dot. Well, here she was; pacing the vacant parking lot, waiting on her absent boyfriend. She had gotten here on time as he said to, and as she waited in the car for him, she planned all the things they'll do with their newfound freedom. When a quarter passed, she started to wonder if maybe Neal underestimated how long the meeting will go. 30 minutes passed. It shouldn’t take this long, should it? The guy Neal found, albeit at the last minute, to fence the watches, checked out to be the stalwart kind of guy to his job. As loyal as a lying thief can be, that is. At least that’s what Neal said. An hour has come and gone, and Emma was out of the car, peering around at the entrances to see if she can spot him whenever he finally decides to shows up. Because he will. He made a promise to her and Neal doesn’t break his promises. Not like all the social workers and the fake smiling foster families that never wanted her. Neal said he’ll meet her here, so that’s what he’ll do. Neal said. Neal said. Neal said....

She was contemplating if her new watch was broken when sirens went off somewhere in the city. It only momentarily distracted her, but a moment was all the two cops needed to sneak up on her. She almost jumps right out of her skin when they make themselves known. 

“HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM! NOW!!” The men in uniforms had her surrounded with their guns drawn. She wouldn’t dare run to her car now, so her only option was to lift her quaking hands in the air. The one coming in from the rear doesn’t waste any time roughly grabbing her wrist and pulling it behind her back.

Emma eventually finds her voice to speak through her mounting panic and terror. “Wait! WAIT! What’s going on!? What did I do!?” She struggles in the officer’s daunting grip to twist around to see him. The other middle-aged cop in front of her retorts with that not-so-subtle patronizing tsk.

“Don’t play the innocent card with us. We got an anonymous tip saying to check the security cameras in the train station. You’re mighty bold, Miss Swan.” Her wrist was slightly pinched as they handcuffed her wrists. Emma didn’t even feel it.

“What…?” The sound of her voice sounded far away even to her. 

“That guy you were with? He set you up. Turns out he had an accomplice and they’re probably halfway out the country by now.” The man had the gall to shake his head, as though he was her father telling her, ‘I told you that boy was nothing but trouble’.

However, she doesn’t have a father, and this man was not about to console her.

She could feel the clasp of her watch being undone. It was dangled in her mystified face when she didn’t answer their incessant questions

“-ere are the other watches!? It’s in your best interests to cooperate with us, Miss Swan.” The cop purses his lips while she whispers that they’re gone. Pushed towards the police cruiser, she tunes out all other questions, and when they tell her her rights, she could feel something break inside of her. 

She promised herself to never cry again when someone chips off another piece of her heart. However, a wayward tear slips past her defenses. 

The back of the car door slams, whilst a LED light above flickers, then shatters in the parking lot.


	3. What About Us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update. I took a break from writing and work kept me busy. This chapter title and last one is from the song What About Us by Pink. I don't own Once Upon A Time or its characters. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

“Another.” The ice clinks against the glass as August slams it on the counter. The bartender glares at him for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Why should he? What was the guy going to do? Sic his burly ogres on him that just barely pass for humans? He’ll just find another seedy place, another bar, another club to waste away in. Like he does every day now. He’ll forget all about unforgiving curses, too-young saviors, and fearful brown eyes glazing over in some fetid back alley-

Raising the glass to his lips, he finds to his immeasurable disappointment, that it was still empty. “Hey! Hey! Barkeep! I’m talking to you!” August slurs, rattling his glass until the bartender (taking his sweet ass time) makes his way down to August’s lonely corner. 

“Finally! Whadda guy gotta do around here to get some service?” The bartender, Jeff according to the nametag, only grimaces, leaning away slightly when August gets a little too close for comfort.

“Sir, I’m cutting you off. You already had more than what I'm usually comfortable with." 

August spins the cup around on the bar. “And what if-” A belch interrupts his words. “What if I’m not done?”

The look of disdain written on Jeff’s face could discourage any rowdy customer. He must've had a lot of practice that expression. “You’re done if I say you’re done. Now, go. I don’t need you around slowing down business." 

August huffs out a sigh. Stumbling off the barstool, he pats himself down. "Wait...lemme just.." Reaching deep into his jacket pocket, he fumbles around only to pull out and to give the guy the finger.

That sets Jeff off. Pointing to August, he growls out, "That's it! Get him the fuck out of here!"

After getting manhandled and forcibly thrown out by the ogre-sized bouncers, August swaggers drunkenly down the street. He knew some other place downtown he could go to. Money wasn't a problem now after selling the watches. He didn't really waste any time putting it to use after getting Emma arrested. A wave of guilt almost knocks him on his ass. Thankfully, not many people were out to see his blunder. He had to believe that this was the best for her. What was even a 17 year old...no it’s 18 now, isn't it?...possibly do with 20,000 dollars anyway? She gotta learn sometimes there's no easy way out or no matter how far you run, it won't magically fix your problems. 

He promptly ignores the little voice in his head, that suspiciously sounded a lot like a cricket he once knew, that said he was being a hypocrite. 

A screech of tires and the clamorous honking of a car skidding past him startles him out of his reverie. Curses were thrown at him by the driver, which, fair, he was wandering a step off the curb. Still, the man could be a little more courteous after almost killing him. With that sobering thought, August decides to just call it a night. 

After sliding his keycard in the door of his hotel room, he tosses his coat on the bedspread and tiredly runs his fingers through his hair. That’s when the rolled-up slip of paper catches his eye. It was still tied up with a blue ribbon and remained virtually untouched ever since he received it via pigeon a few weeks ago. He knew who it was from, and frankly, he didn’t want to listen to whatever she may have to say about this situation. Besides, even with her limited capabilities, there’s no amount of wand-waving that could undo do what he did. Not in this world.

...maybe that’s what he needs; a change of scenery. He heard Hong Kong was nice this time of the year.

\---

3 months after Emma was released

Emma sat in the back of a diner in Tallahassee. Her heart ached as she watched a young couple with their daughter, eating ice cream. The mother playfully dabs a bit of the chocolate frosty dessert on her daughter’s nose, which was met with an adorable peal of laughter. Emma found herself smiling at the wholesome scene. Would her baby giggle like-

No. She told herself she wasn’t going there. She wasn’t going to wonder or envision what if’s. Not again. No more dreams of finding that home with a white picket fence, with the man she loved and the baby that deserved so much more.

She tried to find Neal again. To give him a piece of her mind. To ask him why. To yell. To cry...it didn’t matter anyway. She couldn’t find him. It was as if he disappeared off the face of the earth. Or at least to Canada.

She didn’t believe it at first; that he would leave. She was still having a hard time believing it, but even so, the money was gone and so were the watches. The only thing she got back was the yellow Volkswagen and her swan pendant. 

She spies the family getting up, preparing to leave. The father scoops up the girl, giving her a raspberry on the cheek.

“Can I get you something else, ma’am?” The waitress grins politely, but Emma sees her eyeing her up and judging her haggard appearance. 

Emma smiles tightly. “No, thanks. I’m good here. Uh, can I get the check, please?”

The waitress raises one thick brow. Emma didn’t blame her skepticism. Being a regular here, ordering a hot chocolate, and staring at all the families’ dining-in and out has become Emma’s favorite vicarious pastime. She would spend a few hours here until she goes back on her fruitless hunt for Neal. Today, she’s only been here for not quite an hour, tops; not her usual M.O. 

“You sure, hon?” The waitress asked, tapping her notebook with her pen.

“Positive. I think it’s time for me to move on.” Emma replies. The waitress nods, though not completely understanding what she meant. The woman leaves to get her check. It was time. Time to stop feeling sorry for herself. She was going to pick up the pieces of her heart left behind, ducktape it back together, and carry on with her life. Exactly like she always does. 

\---

At that precise moment, in a hospital in Maine, a brown-eyed John Doe wakes up to a strange world.


End file.
